She stopped in embarrassment at Eric’s look of surprise.
“I suspect you of trying to involve me in a conspiracy, Miss Maitland,” he said.
“Conspiracy?... Aunt Connie said that you were anxious and that you’d kindly offered to send out search-parties or something—”
“So you came in person to set my mind at rest instead of writing or telephoning! Your aunt was very anxious, I thought.”
“I’m afraid she was. You see, I hadn’t told her beforehand.”
Ivy tried to look him frankly in the face, then lowered her eyes and pretended to inspect the furniture and pictures. Eric turned away and lighted a cigarette.
“Did you know anything about it, yourself, beforehand?” He gave her time to decide whether it was worth while to speak the truth. “I don’t say I _will_ be your accomplice, but, if you want me to be, you must tell me everything.”
Eric turned with a smile and offered her a cigarette:
“To put it quite brutally, in concealing from your aunt what happened last night.”
Eric found her effort to put him out of countenance by attempted haughtiness of tone pathetically unsuccessful.
“You went to Gaymer’s flat in Buckingham Gate. I don’t say there _wasn’t_ any supper; I don’t even say there wasn’t a party, if three constitute a party. It was informal, however, and as much of a surprise to the host as to his guests.”
Ivy jumped up indignantly and subsided slowly in defeat.
“I don’t know what you mean!,” she cried with a last rally.
“How did you find out?,” she asked limply.
“Intuition, if you like. You went there on the spur of the moment, because you’d seen him driving home with another woman. You went there to make a scene with the other woman.”
“No, I wanted to talk to him about something.”
“I never even saw her. I don’t know who she was.”
There was a long pause. Eric changed his chair so that he should not seem to be watching her face.
“Well, so far my intuition has been fairly good,” he said. “Isn’t it your turn now?” There was no answer. “I’m hardly adding anything, if I say that you’re in love with Gaymer and jealous of the other woman.”
“Oh, come! I’m afraid neither Gaymer nor any other man would allow you to dictate who may go to his flat.”
Her left hand was bare and carried no ring; Eric seemed to remember her telling him overnight that she had not seen Gaymer for some time; and, when he went into her rooms off the Adelphi, she had confessed to at least a disagreement. The engagement seemed unstable.